Twenty Dollars
by SimOph52
Summary: All it took was twenty dollars... Some bad language-but all appropriate to the plot
1. Chapter 1

**Was I the only one bothered by this in the last episode "The he in the she"? **

**R&R please!**

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It was only twenty dollars. Twenty dollars and now I'm sitting in New Jersey against the side of a building, holding onto the molding with everything I have to keep me from setting foot on the crudely patterned carpet.

The trigger was that stupid twenty dollars. Why hadn't anyone stopped me? They know that I have a problem and yet they didn't stop me from throwing it out there. I mean, the bet was with my therapist of all people. He of anyone should have stopped me from opening my wallet, but no. He saw it and raised.

I want to reach for my phone, but I'm afraid that if I let go of this wall then the gravity force of the slot machines ringing and the clatter of coins hitting the metal basin below will draw me in like the devil luring souls into damnation. The sad thing is that this is not the worst I've been in my life. I have been lower than this.

I am chanting to myself to cope and overcome; praying to god to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference. I fear that God has given up on helping me. The fact that I drove all night to get here without one iota of my conscience kicking in and telling me to turn around and go home was the final straw.

The sun began climbing on the horizon about an hour ago and it burns my face like the truth of my situation burns my soul. When I finally started taking classes in the program I was repentant for my sins and hoped for a better future. I took it day by day and climbed my way out of the ditch I had made for myself. After years of being okay with my addiction and coming to terms with the kind of person I had become after the war, I became cocky, arrogant. I thought it was funny at first, making other people believe this persona was the real Seeley Booth. But that persona; it made the fall from greatness that much worse.

Now I sit shattered in an alleyway of Atlantic City. I need help and I can't bring myself to ask for it just yet. Slowly, I crawl through the alley toward the boardwalk. It must look very strange to outsiders seeing a well dressed and clean shaven man crawling away from a casino, then again, maybe there is a guy like me crawling away from temptation every day and they recognize the path of redemption.

I should be proud of myself in reality. I came all this way overnight and still managed to not step foot inside. That is what Bones would say. At least I didn't go inside. I had enough willpower to not actually give in.

Reaching the wooden planks, and the sound of the clanging machines now a distant rumbling in my ears, I stand and walk wearily up the ramp toward the ocean. The sea air. I feel dirty. I betrayed myself and my partner and most of all I betrayed my son. I was severely mistaken in thinking that I was cured. Addiction is addiction and there is no way to relieve yourself of it. If you don't keep your mind on it all day everyday, it will seep back into your life and bring you to your knees.

I walk toward the ramp to the beach and make my way down into the soft sand and feel the morning breeze take me over. I can feel God's love at this moment and I know that he has not abandoned me. I smile and tears come to my eyes to once again be reassured that he will never leave my side; only I can leave his. Walking to the water's edge, shed my coat and reach into my pocket for my phone.

The ringing stops and I hear her voice on the other side, "Booth? Where are you? You were supposed to be here twenty minutes ago."

"Bones," I said, my voice sounding a lot more beaten up that I thought it would.

"Oh God." I hear her gasp, "Are you okay? Where are you?" I can hear the worry in her voice and I look toward the heavens and send up a silent prayer of thanks for her being allowed in my life.

I am at an all time low, and I cannot hold onto my pride as my voice cracks and tears begin to fall, "I need help, Temperance." I say, terrified that she will think less of me, "I'm in New Jersey."


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey guys! I'm moving the one fast so watch out.**

**Oh, and just for clarification: I had a reviewer ask if I had any personal experience with addiction and the answer is no. However, I do know a few people who do have addictions to drugs and alcohol and must say that in terms of that kind of addiction, this story is being mild with the description of relapse.**

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__I am at an all time low, and I cannot hold onto my pride as my voice cracks and tears begin to fall, "I need help, Temperance." I say, terrified that she will think less of me, "I'm in New Jersey."_

"New Jersey?" she questions, "Oh, Booth. Please tell me you're not where I think you are."

I shook my head and collapsed on the beach, "I am. I'm on the beach. I haven't been inside at all."

I hear her take a labored breath, "You stay right where you are. Do not move until I get there Booth. Do you hear me?" she says seriously and without room for argument.

I nod and try to form the words in my mouth, "Yes." I say, rubbing the salt off of my brow.

She sighs in relief and I can already hear the doors of the Jeffersonian opening in the background and her heavy heeled footsteps on the pavement outside, "What happened, Booth?" she asked, "What set this off?"

I shook my head, my vision of the horizon blurred from the tears, "I think it was a bunch of little things. I can't be sure."

I heard her ignition start in the background and her wheels shriek on the asphalt as she speeds off, "Oh." She says weakly, "The other day." She says vehemently, and I can hear her voice choke up, "I knew I should have said something. That weasily little bastard!" she yells at herself. I know she's talking about the bet with Sweets.

"Temperance, this isn't your fault. I made the choice. I wasn't thinking about the consequences of my own actions." I plead to make her understand, "I have to be accountable for myself. That is the only way that I can do this."

"No." she says sternly, "Both you and Angela have told me time and time again that friends look out for each other. I wasn't looking out for you, Booth. This is partially my fault for not protecting you." Her voice raised and octave and her breathing is heavy. I feel awful listening to her struggle on the other end of the line, "You always protect me Booth, and the one time you need me, I let you down."

"Please stop blaming yourself." I beg her, my voice cracking without my permission, "Please." I can no longer sit upright, I slowly let my body fall to the side and lay myself down in the sand and curl up under my jacket. I don't care if people passing by think that I am strange or hung over.

I hear her gasping for breaths on the other end, the sound of her is comforting to me and I know that if I hadn't gotten her on the phone I would be in much worse shape than I am now, "Booth?" she says.

"Yeah Bones?" I reply, hoping that she feels better.

"I have to get off the phone now. But you promise me that you will stay where you are, okay? Do not go anywhere."

"I promise I will try my best." I say, immediately wishing that I could speak to her until she arrived.

"I love you, Booth." She says, before hanging up the phone.


	3. Chapter 3

**I wasn't joking about getting this story finished quickly. It might not happen today but the muse won't let it go until I have written a lot.**

**So, now I'm going on the treadmill and expect my inbox to be filled with reviews by the time I get back!!**

**R&R please!**

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_"I love you, Booth." She says, before hanging up the phone._

I can literally feel my heart breaking in my chest. She told me that she loves me and I'm lying on the beach like a vagrant. She is the princess and I am the pauper who stares at her glistening window in the castle every night and she loves me.

I always believed that she was too good for me and if there was any moment in which that could be verified it was this moment. I was burned eggs in a frying pan and she was bringing her spatula from DC to scrape me off.

I want to appear strong when she arrives and I want her to believe that I am okay, but the muscles in my body and the depression that has set in has officially made me incapable of moving at this point. I cannot force myself up off of this sand bed even though the minute crystals are indenting my face and causing my skin to become irritated.

Before I even realize what happened, I wake up to a silhouette. I can feel that my throat is slightly closed up and my head is spinning when I try to sit up by myself. She helps me sit up and she sits down next to me.

I look at my phone and realize that she made it here in forty-five minutes which is impossible, "Please tell me that you're not a hallucination." I say closing my eyes for the impending answer.

She turns to me and touches the back of my neck with her hand running her fingers through my hair, "Hodgins set me up with a helicopter and Angela traced you call. I landed fifteen minutes ago at the Trump and ran down the boardwalk to get here."

Letting out an exasperated breath, I leaned my head on her shoulder and pulled her into a hug, burying my face into her shoulder, "I am a very, very lucky man." I mumble into her neck and she wraps her arms around my neck, running her fingers through my hair with one hand. She kisses my temple twice and leans her head against mine to let me know that she is here.

After some monumental encouragement from her, I regain my composure and we stand up and face the boardwalk hand in hand. She is my life line and I'm afraid that my grip on her might be hurting her hand, but she reassures me with a smile.

When we reach the boardwalk she stops and pulls me towards her, "Booth," she says cautiously, "The only way to get back to the helicopter is to go through the casino."

I chuckle slightly, I don't find the situation particularly funny, and it is obvious that she doesn't either, but the idea of using a helicopter owned by a rich man who is helping out the scum of the earth was ironic, "My car is here. I have to drive it back." I tell her regretfully.

Brennan nods and pulls her cell phone out of her pocket. She calls Hodgins and tells him to have the pilots leave without us. We walk down the alley that I crawled out of and I try to not look at the place I sat all night long listening to the gaiety that was occurring inside.

We walk past the doors and she grips my hand harder sending me a message that is both stern and loving and I smile in response, knowing that she is only looking out for me. I feel weak when I hear a woman squeal inside the doors while the sound of clattering coins tumbles from the thin walls of the entrance. Hurriedly, I start walking toward the parking garage, at this point dragging Temperance behind me. She understands what is going on and picks up her speed as well. When we get in the elevator I finally take a breath and relax. No more noise, no more money.

I hit the button for my level and Temperance takes her free hand and strokes my arm comfortingly. I turn to her and see the worry in her eyes despite the fact that she is trying to hide it.

"I lost my chip." I say to her. I hate how my voice sounds. I sound weak and fragile and that is not the kind of man Temperance Brennan is used to seeing in me. I look away from her in shame and embarrassment.

She walks around in front of me, forcing me to meet her eyes, "It's okay, Booth. When we get home I'll help you look for it." She whispers to me.

Tears start welling up in my eyes again and I back away from her and put a hand over my eyes. She forcefully pulls it away and places her hand on my cheek, stroking her thumb over my cheekbone.

I inhale loudly and the tears begin to escape and I groan loudly, "I hate this. I hate that you have to see me like this." I say, looking up at the ceiling of the elevator wishing away my vulnerability.

She smiles at me and I think I'm going to pass out, "Fair is fair, Booth. You've seen me like this more than once."

I laugh and she joins in as the bell dings for our floor. Still holding her hand firmly in mine, or perhaps she is holding my hand firmly in hers, we walk to the car in silence and she takes the keys from me insisting that it is time for her to take care of me.


	4. Chapter 4

**Okay, I'm gonna give you guys another chapter just because I have work tomorrow and won't be able to update much. I'm relieved to be writing something a little more angsty rather than the recent brigade of fluff pieces. I love happy B/B but I'm a drama queen at heart. haha**

**R&R pretty please??**

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_She smiles at me and I think I'm going to pass out, "Fair is fair, Booth. You've seen me like this more than once."_

_I laugh and she joins in as the bell dings for our floor. Still holding her hand firmly in mine, or perhaps she is holding my hand firmly in hers, we walk to the car in silence and she takes the keys from me insisting that it is time for her to take care of me._

Before turning on the ignition she turns to me in the passenger seat. My hand feels vacant without hers and so I latch on to her over the console again. She doesn't hesitate to comfort me and links her fingers with mine, "How are you doing?" she asks quietly.

I nod, not looking in her eyes, "Much better now." And it's the truth. I'm not cured, I am not good, but I am better with her next to me, just like I have always been a better person with her by my side.

She squeezes my hand again and turns in the seat, adjusting it so her legs can reach the pedals and so she can see over the steering wheel, "I called Cullen on my way over here and told him that you were sick and couldn't come in today or tomorrow and I took off work as well."

I sigh and close my eyes, "You don't have to do that."

"Yes." She said firmly, "Yes I do." She turns the ignition and backs out of the spot, then turning it into drive and finding her way out of the maze of cars, "We'll stop to eat at a diner along the way and when we get into the city, you and I both are going to a meeting. I don't know much about this addiction aside from the chemical aspect and I want to understand you better."

I can't help myself from bringing her hand up to my lips and kissing it to let her know how much I appreciate her. I try to tell her thank you, but my voice doesn't come, but I know she knows what I want to say even though I can't express it out loud just yet.

The only sleep I got was the forty-five minutes on the beach, so as soon as the car started I was out. I only woke when Brennan pulled into a rocky parking lot for a 1950's style diner. She turns off the car and turns to me, placing her hand on my thigh to wake me, "Booth, it's lunch time and you need to eat something."

I cough, clearing my throat and nod to her, straightening up in my seat and rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. We get out of the car and walk into the diner. My legs feel like jelly and I feel like my center of gravity is off, the way it always feels after a traumatic event or time spent in the hospital. I can tell that she is being cautious with me by the way she slowly walks in front of me, just incase I need her for anything. Normally I would call her on it, but right now I can't bear tease the woman who saved me.

Entering the diner, we take a seat at a booth and order coffee straight away and look at the menus offered us, even though we already know what we're having. Every now and then I catch her staring at me with concern, but she just smiles and turns her attention elsewhere.

"Was it the bet?" she asks self consciously.

I let out a breath and lean back as our food is placed out in front of us. After the waitress leaves I lean toward her, "I would like to say yes, because that would be the easy answer. It wasn't though. It wasn't just one thing that led me there and… I have a lot of thinking to do; a lot of self-reevaluation." I say, shaking my head.

She leaned into the table as well and put her hand over mine, "I want to help you, Booth." She said earnestly.

I smile at her and turn my hand over to clasp hers, "I know. Thank you, but this is something I have to do by myself."

She ducks her head lower to meet my eyes, "You scared me this morning, Booth. I have never felt like that before. Not even during a kidnapping." She says, a smile coming to her lips.

I run my fingers over her knuckles, "I'm sorry I put you through this."

She looks away from me and toward our joined hands and I can tell that she is about to ask me something that she isn't certain she wants the answer to, "Why did you call me?" she asked.

I draw in a shaky breath and although I was expecting a difficult question I didn't believe that this question would come up in conversation so soon. I glance up at her, knowing that she is waiting for a truthful answer and I can't even think of something more mild than the truth, "Are you sure you want to know?" I ask, my throat becoming more closed of by the second. Breathing is becoming a task.

She looks at me and I can feel her penetrating stare on me. She nods, "Yes."

I glance at her again and I can see in her eyes that she is scared but adamant, "I don't have anyone else to call." I say, yet another goddamn tear dripping down my cheek. I am surprised that I'm not dehydrated at this point.

She gets out of her seat and moves into my side of the booth and wraps her arms around me. I am surprised to find that I'm not the only one crying at this point and that makes me feel a little better. She moves her food over to my side of the table and we eat in silence.


	5. Chapter 5

**I hope you all like this one!!**

**Let me know! R&R please!**

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We get back into DC and I finally start feeling more like myself. The familiar streets of the city speak to me in ways that no other streets can. I feel their importance in my life because this is where the crime happens that I stop on a daily basis, with her.

I can tell she is tired when she pulls into my apartment complex. Her eyes are dry and she is blinking a lot more than usual to moisten then subconsciously. We slowly exit the vehicle and I meet her at the side walk where we accidentally knock into each other as we walk up the steps to my door. There is no argument as to whether she is staying because I know that I won't win and she won't take no for an answer. We step inside the front door and I flick on the lights. She stops and I remember.

The living room is a mess. There is mail thrown on the floor, a half empty beer bottle on the coffee table, the recliner is tipped over on its side, a lamp leans against the wall haphazardly and the contents of my DVD tower are covering the floor in front of the entertainment center.

She slowly walks through the room like it is the remnants of a war zone or a Peruvian burial site. She is assessing the damage and starts to restore the territory to its original condition. I toss my coat on the couch and pick up the recliner. In ten minutes we have the area cleaned and put back to the way it is supposed to be.

I tell her that I'm going to take a shower and I don't think she hears me on my way to the bathroom when I say, "I don't deserve you". I turn on the water in the shower as hot as it will go and study myself in the mirror. It could be the lighting in the bathroom that is unfamiliar to my eyes today but I look worn and beaten with the bags under my eyes and the scruff on my chin that makes me look a few years older than I really am. I shrug at my own image in the mirror, disrobe and step under the steaming water in the shower hoping to wash away the dirt as well as the entire night I just lived through in the process.

After changing into a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt I walk out into the living room to find her. She is in the kitchen on the phone with who I can only assume is Angela. I don't want to eavesdrop, but I can't help it.

"He's fine right now, Ange." She says. She is holding her head in her right hand and I can't see her eyes, "Please thank Hodgins for me." She says shifting in her seat. I hear her sniff and she nods her head in response to the mumbled voice that I hear, "I know, I'm just really worried about him. I've never seen him like this before." She says to Angela. She laughs in response to something Angela says, most likely something about hooking up with me and I get confirmation of that when she says, "Angela!" in an accusatory tone.

I smile, knowing what Angela is saying on the other end of the line and I walk into the kitchen. She looks up at me and smiles and quickly tells Angela that she has to go.

"Are you hungry?" she asks, standing up from the kitchen table.

"Yeah, a little" I say to her, "I was just going to make a sandwich." She turns and opens the fridge, fishing through its contents.

I put my hand on her shoulder and she looks at me, "You don't have to make me anything." I say.

She smiles, "I want to. Go take a nap or watch television or something." She says pushing me into the living room. She goes back to the kitchen and I can hear her jostling items from the couch.

I turn on the television and end up falling asleep against my will. I'm not sure how much time has passed when I feel her gently put her hand on my shoulder, "Booth, dinner is ready."

I shift on the couch and open my eyes to find her staring back at me, eyes wide and curious like they are when she studies remains. I have effectively avoided being the object of that gaze for the past three and a half years and now it is the only think I see from those eyes.

I get off the couch and follow her into the kitchen to find that she has made me chicken parmesan, "For someone who doesn't eat meat, you sure know how to cook it." I say, giving her a half smile.

She smiles back at me, "I used to eat it. This was one of my favorites before I became vegetarian." She said before sitting down across from me and spinning a cylinder of pasta onto her fork.

This conversation is fake and we can both feel it. I take a bite of the meal she prepared for me and it is really very good. I put my fork down and look at her.

"Is there something wrong with it?" she asks gesturing to my plate.

I shake my head, "No, not at all." I say, exhaling loudly, "I just feel awful."

"Are you okay?" she asks, her voice thick with concern.

"Can we not pretend that this morning didn't happen?" I ask sounding angrier than I intend.

Her eyes are widening and I feel even worse for upsetting her, "Yes." She whispers and turns back to her meal.

"I'm sorry." I say, bringing my hands to my face. I relax into my hands and lean on the table, covering my eyes so she can't see me. It's a stupid childhood fantasy to think if you can't see them they can't see you, but I still do it all the time.

"It's okay." She says putting her hand on my arm, "You're having a rough day, Booth. I'm just here to try and make it easier for you."

I shake my head and grab my fork again and swallow a few bites of the meal she made for me knowing that at the very least I can give her this in return.


	6. Chapter 6

**WARNING: This is as dark as it gets. From here on out it's all about healing and love. **

**Sorry, it just felt right to go there.**

**R&R please**

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After diner I go to the bathroom again so that I can shave. Temperance is on the couch pretending that she is watching television but before I even left the room she was sound asleep.

I turn on the shaving cream heater and open my shaving kit and find my razor. I used to do this after the war; stand at the sink studying the fine edges of the razorblade. When I was younger I kept one in my sock drawer thinking that it was cool somehow and when I cut my hand on it searching for a pair of dress socks before my grandmothers funeral I felt an intense burn like no other injury I had gotten to date. It was quick and painful and brought me to tears fifteen minutes later when I could no longer mask my pain.

Out of the corner of my eye I see Temperance standing in the doorway. She eyes the razor warily, "What are you doing?" she asks.

I turn to face her, "Waiting for the shaving cream to warm up." I know what she is thinking but I'm not suicidal. Ten years ago, maybe, but I didn't have Parker then or Bones to look after.

Brennan clears her throat and takes a step toward me, "If you don't mind I'd like to stay in here while you shave." She says, crossing her arms.

"I'm okay." I tell her, giving her a reassuring smile.

She shifts on her feet, "I'm still staying." She says firmly.

I sigh and turn back to the mirror and lather my face. She closes the toilet seat and sits on it watching me run the sharp edge of the blade against my skin. She is tense like she is going to pounce on me at any moment if the blade makes a wrong move, and it does. I nick the skin on my neck and a drop of blood drips down my neck and onto my t-shirt. She jumps up and grabs a wad of toilet paper and comes toward me.

"It's fine, Temperance." I say, "Just a little blood."

She scoffs, "A little blood? You do realize that that cut is right above your carotid artery, right?" she says, pushing by my arm and dabbing my neck clean of blood, "Don't be so selfish, Booth." She whispers.

"Selfish?" I ask, genuinely wondering what she means by that.

"You have a son. It's bad enough that every murderer in the tri-state area wants you dead. You shouldn't want yourself dead too." She says and I can see the tears threatening to fall from her eyes. She wets the toilet paper in the sink and cleans up the blood streak that has already been absorbed into my skin, "To think that you would willingly take yourself away from him; away from me…" she shakes her head and looks away, throwing the toilet paper in the trash.

I take her arm and turn her back to face me, "I'm not going anywhere." I tell her, "I would never kill myself. I know what I have, Temperance."

She nods her head and pulls out of my grasp, "You damn well better." She says, reclaiming her seat and crossing her legs. I turn back toward the mirror and continue shaving.


	7. Chapter 7

**New Chapter!! Hope you like it**

**Read and review please!!**

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We sit on the couch mindlessly flipping through channels. There is nothing on TV tonight and I can feel her fidgeting on the other side of the couch. She is about to ask me something, but I keep my eyes glued on the television without actually looking at the pictures that flash in front of my eyes.

She finally turns to me, "Do you… want to go to a meeting?" she asks. I take a swig out of my beer and shake my head no. She faces the television again and I stop at a movie on HBO that I've never seen before. She glances over at me again, "Are you sure? Because I think it might be…" she starts again.

I cut her off, "No, Bones. Thank you, but I can't go just yet." I mumble and she nods. She gets up off of the couch and walks down the hall toward my bedroom. I think she might be upset with me, but I can't bring myself to follow her, so I yell down the hall, "You okay, Bones?" I ask.

I hear rustling of papers and I get up off the couch slowly and make my way down the hall. I come to the threshold of the door and see her moving things around. She is looking for something, "What are you looking for?" I ask.

She turns to me and sighs outwardly, "I'm looking for your chip." She says, turning back toward the dresser and picking up picture frames to see if it slid underneath.

"Don't worry about it now, Bones." I tell her. She is being a really good friend and it breaks my heart to see her so concerned with my well being, especially when it should be the other way around; like it always has been. It's my job to make sure that she eats, she sleeps and she keeps breathing and this whole situation just proves that if she doesn't survive then neither will I.

I step towards her and take her hands in mine and tug her body close to my own. I wrap my hands around her shoulders and she places her hands on the sides of my waist. Resting my head against hers I whisper, "Thank you for being such a good friend to me."

She leans into the hug, winding her arms around me and squeezing me with a force that most would be surprised that she has in her small frame, she whispers into my chest, "I'm just repaying the favor."

I smile, and it may very well be the first genuine smile that I've had all day. When we separate, she immediately goes back to looking for the chip and I help in the search.

Yesterday, in a frantic tizzy I destroyed my apartment in the search for it and came up empty handed. Today, we search calmly together and I feel and overwhelming and dramatic change in my demeanor from yesterday to today. I was a monster yesterday after getting home from work. Everything; the case we were working on, the call from my mother who lectured me on the merits of marriage and a life outside of crime, the fight with Rebecca about our custody arrangements for Parker over the summer threw my perspective on my life into a whirlwind of perpetual failure and misery.

As I search for my salvation with the woman I secretly love helping me in my quest, I feel a sense of calm. I still have much guilt to deal with and my problems are still presently plaguing me, but with her strength and determination being my guiding hand I know that it is only a matter of time until I get back on my feet.

We search for an hour and a half; Temperance asking me questions about where I had the chip last, what I did the day that it went missing and I find it humorous that she is playing the role of detective for once.

I hear from another room in the house a squeal that is very uncharacteristic of her and I run in the direction of where it came from. She is in my laundry room standing over a pile of soiled dress shirts, t-shirts and jeans holding up the poker chip like a trophy.

I let out an exacerbated breath and pick her up into the air, twirling her around because she has done me an enormous favor which I may never be able to repay. She is laughing and her hair is stridently falling around her face.

I slide her back down to the floor and take her face gently in my hands. I kiss her cheek and forehead a few times, wanting only to kiss her lips which I presume are softer than they are in my mind. She smiles at me and places the chip in my hand and closes my fingers over it.

"Thank you so much." I whisper to her. Neither of us can move as she stares up into my eyes. I loose the ability to distract myself from her beauty and my breathing becomes labored; this time in a good way. Her beauty is disarming. Most of the time I am able to distract myself from staring and intentionally avoid the cavernous depth in her eyes that gives away her every emotion without her consciously aware of it, but right now I am lost in her gaze and she in mine.

It is taking everything I have not to grab her and pull her close to me. Despite how strong the urge is, it is not the right time or the right place. I want to be able to give myself to her fully without fault and guilt lingering in my path, she deserves a whole man, not the remnants of disaster that I am now.

I reluctantly take a step away from her and look at the long lost poker chip that sent me into despair and curse it for having gone missing and for supplying this moment of potential between Temperance and myself. If only this had happened yesterday I may not have ended up in the well of self pity that I was in this morning and am only beginning to climb out of now.


	8. Chapter 8

**Hey all! I hope you like this next chapter. Let me know what you think!**

**Thanks for reading and reviewing. I wouldn't know what to do without you all.**

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_I reluctantly take a step away from her and look at the long lost poker chip that sent me into despair and curse it for having gone missing and for supplying this moment of potential between Temperance and myself. If only this had happened yesterday I may not have ended up in the well of self pity that I was in this morning and am only beginning to climb out of now. _

The doorbell rings and I get up to answer the door, but Brennan rushes past me. I follow behind her to see who it is because after all, this is my apartment. She is wearing one of my t-shirts and a pair of my sweat pants that cause her to trip over the excess material every few steps and I can't help but find it adorable. She opens the door and Angela is on the other side with a concerned expression and a duffel bag in hand.

"Thanks for bringing this over Ange. I really appreciate it." She says, taking the bag out of Angela's grasp and hoisting it over the shoulder. Before it lands on her, I grab the strap and take it out of her grasp. She looks as though she is about to protest but she stops herself, giving me a half hearted smile knowing that it is symbolic in someway of me getting back the part of me that was lost.

Angela stands at the door, looking back and forth between Brennan and myself, "How are you doing?" she asks me quietly.

I nod and look down at my feet, "I'm okay." I tell her. It's such a vague question that people normally graze over and I don't see the pettiness of it until now. The answer will always be 'okay' or 'fine' no matter who answers it, and the vagueness of which the question is posed in is almost offensive. I know she doesn't mean to be a generic friend, but I can't help but feel slighted by the benign attempt at comfort; especially when that is the first thing that everyone will ask me over the course of the next week with just the hint of subtext of pity.

She nods her head and looks down the street as a means to fill up the awkward silence that has overpowered the conversation, "Well," she says, fiddling her fingers then pulling her jacket tighter around her small frame, "If you need anything…" she says looking at both of us.

"Thanks Ange." Brennan says, smiling at her friend. Angela turns and walks down the stairs and Brennan closes the door behind her and turns smiling at me.

"You okay?" she says stroking my arm. I close my eyes and turn away from her and bring her bag into my bedroom. I can hear her following me and as I put her bag on the floor next to my bed she speaks up, "What are you doing?" she asks and I can hear the slight irritation in her voice that feels like home to me.

"Putting your bag down." I say, with a slight hint of amusement in my voice.

I turn and see her arms crossed defensively in front of her, "This is your bedroom, Booth."

I look at the bed and turn around to look at my dresser and turn back to her, "Huh… so it is." I say shrugging and brushing past her back toward the living room.

She follows me again. She would make a terrible stalker. I sit down on the couch and turn up the volume on the TV and prop my feet up on the coffee table in front of me.

"I'm not sleeping in your bedroom." She says, plopping down on the couch next to me, arms still crossed defiantly.

"Yes, you are." I tell her, with no room in my voice for weakness. I flip the channels until I happen upon the Iron Chef and sink down lower into the couch.

We sit silently for a moment and I can feel her thinking over an argument, "It's your bed, Booth. I'm not taking your bed. I can… sleep in Parker's room or on the couch."

The image of her sleeping Parker's bed makes me laugh silently, "You won't be comfortable in Parker's bed. He has one of those racecar beds that are built for a child to sleep in."

She shifts down on the couch, testing it for comfort, "The couch is suitable."

I shake my head, "You're not sleeping on the couch. I will be fine out here, you should sleep in my bed."

"You'll be more comfortable in your own bed." She replies.

"I'll be more comfortable knowing that you are comfortable in my bed." I say, now turning to her. She is staring at the television with her lips pursed.

"Fine." She says and I believe that I have won the argument until she says, "Either we both sleep in the bed or neither of us do." I'm taken aback by how forward she is being. She turns to look at me and I can tell by her set jaw that she is completely serious, "And don't you dare think that you can move me after I fall asleep." She says curling up on the other end of the couch as though to go to sleep.

I exhale loudly, so that she knows how infuriating she can be, "Fine." I say. I stand up, turn off the TV and stretch. She is looking at me curiously and without regard or warning I scoop her up in my arms and take her to the bedroom.

"Booth!" she yells, "Put me down this instant!" She is trying to wriggle out of my grasp, but I have a firm hold on her and she isn't going anywhere. I reach the bed and unceremoniously drop her onto the mattress, "That was unnecessary." She says as I walk around to the other side and get comfortable under the covers.

"If you wanted to sleep with me Bones, all you had to do was say so." I smile at her and she laughs grabbing the sheets from beneath her and moving under the covers with me.

She turns toward the lamp next to the bed and turns it off and darkness takes over the room. I feel her shifting on the other side of the bed trying to make herself more comfortable. If I'm going to be honest with myself, her close proximity makes me uneasy, especially in such an intimate atmosphere. Every movement I make I feel like she is dissecting to the point where I think I might even be breathing too loudly.

"Hey Bones." I whisper and I can hear the sheets rumple as she turns toward me.

"Yeah Booth?"

"You aren't going to leave me are you?" I ask. I hear her breath hitch and I realize that she had asked me this question once before. Perhaps she is surprised that she isn't the only one of us scared of loosing the other.

"Never." She whispers and moves closer to me. She wraps an arm around my waist and I pull her closer to me and that is how we wake in the morning; entangled together, desperately clinging to each other praying that neither of us will have to know from this point on what it's like to live without each other again.


	9. Chapter 9

**Hey y'all. Here is the new chapter. I hope you like it. I had some trouble because somehow that STUPID paperclip dude showed up on my Micro word again. I haven't had him pop up in the longest time and then there he was... all... paperclippy. He freaks me out because when I hit save, he folds himself up into a little envelope. What is with that? I'm not mailing him anywhere... why the envelope M.Word? Damn Bill Gates!**

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_ "You aren't going to leave me are you?" I ask. I hear her breath hitch and I realize that she had asked me this question once before. Perhaps she is surprised that she isn't the only one of us scared of loosing the other._

_ "Never." She whispers and moves closer to me. She wraps an arm around my waist and I pull her closer to me and that is how we wake in the morning; entangled together, desperately clinging to each other praying that neither of us will have to know from this point on what it's like to live without each other again._

"Hey." She whispers to me, lifting her head off of my chest and half smiling. She blows a strand of hair out of her face unsuccessfully and I brush it behind her ear with my free hand for her.

"Morning." I say smiling at her rumpled appearance. Her eyes are watery from just waking up and she looks like all she wants to do is close her eyes again fall asleep, hopefully wrapped in my arms, but a man can only hope so much.

She leans her head back down onto my chest and moves closer to me and I let out a laugh and feel her mumble something to the sound of "shut up" into my shirt. I have dreamed about waking up like this in the morning many times in the past, sometimes intentionally keeping my eyes closed pretending the weight of my excess pillow was her lying on top of me. It's a stupid fantasy and now that she is actually lying awake next to me I feel embarrassed by it seeing as how no feeling can compare to the one I have right now.

Her feet are rubbing together under the blanket and she absentmindedly rubs my leg with her shin in the process. Her feet are cold as are mine and it suddenly strikes me that I will have difficulty walking for a few minutes after getting out of bed.

She knows how the injuries occurred and I feel grateful that I don't have to explain it to her, but at the same time she has seen me in such a vulnerable state in the past thirty six hours that I feel embarrassed to add yet another flaw onto the list of many reasons why I am broken.

Sighing, I close my eyes, "Let's stay here forever." I say in jest, but there is a part of me that knows I am in some small way being truthful.

She giggles and I feel the vibrations of it on my side, "Okay." She mumbles, scooting closer to me.

"No more murders; just comfy beds." I say rolling towards her and wrapping my other arm around her.

"Sounds good." She says in a half yawn. She moves up on the bed and rests her forehead against the side of my neck, then pulls back to look at me. Granted, I don't see these movements, but I feel her stare on me and it finally forces me to open my eyes to meet hers. It amazes me still that despite how tired she looks her eyes have a way of remaining the same intensity as they always are; and yet, they are ever changing. It is a concept that is far too baffling for someone like me, so I merely accept that miracle for what it is and ask no further questions much like my acceptance of God.

"We should eat." She says, tapping me on the arm.

I half smile at her, "I though we said we aren't leaving this bed."

She laughs at me and shakes her head, then standing up on the mattress and hoping over me and off the other side onto the hardwood floors, "Get up!" she yells and walks out of the room; tripping on the large sweatpants as she crosses the threshold of the door.

I throw back the covers on the bed and shift myself into a sitting position with my rigid feet planting themselves on the floor. I gasp as I try to wiggle my toes, knowing that the more pain I feel now the quicker they will loosen up and I will be able to walk. I bring my right foot up to my left knee and rest it there. Massaging my foot, I can feel the tension leaving each bone as I press harder into them. I attempt not to make any noise so that she can't hear me in pain especially since I am not sure exactly where in the house she is.

"Booth?" She calls from down the hall, "Are you coming?"

I can hear her footsteps walking toward the door and I stifle a moan as my foot hits the hardwood, "Yeah." I say as she swings open the door.

She looks at me like she is studying a set of remains again. Apparently I am not as good at hiding my pain as I thought because she shifts on her feet and says, "Are you okay?"

I try my best to smile, "I'm fine, Bones. Are you cooking something?" I ask, not only to change the topic but because I can smell something cooking wafting into my bedroom.

She half smiles, but I know she can tell that I'm being evasive, "Pancakes." She says flatly, "What is wrong with you?" she says walking toward the bed. She stops as she sees the red marks on my feet and a sudden realization dawns on her; I can see it in her eyes, "Do you need anything?" she asks, looking up at me, trying her best not to make me uncomfortable, which I appreciate.

I shake my head and look away from her. It's stupid to feel ashamed around her and I know it, but it's almost an involuntary reaction at this point. I have nothing left to hide behind when it comes to this woman and now I can sympathize with her constant efforts to tell me that she is fine when I know damn well that she isn't. She is holding onto her last bit of privacy.

We have worn each other bare and there is nothing that we cannot infer about one another anymore. I didn't realize how ingrained we were into each other's lives until I was stripped bare of my dignity and she was still standing by my side. I have to admit that she has probably felt like this much longer than I have. Probably since the night on the stairs at the Jeffersonian when she was ashamed about never having given Zack anything and I was there to pick up the pieces as she is here for me.

"The pancakes are going to burn." She says awkwardly turning toward the bedroom door. She walks to the threshold and turns back to me, "Just…" she sighs, "Just wait here." She says and then leaves.

Five minutes later, she walks into the bedroom to find me in the same position that she left me in. I am rolling my ankles; my eyes closed and the aroma of the pancakes is like heaven. They smell like home as a kid; just the way my mother's pancakes smelled as my brother and I would elbow each other on the way down the stairs in hopes of beating the other to the stack.

I open my eyes and turn to her and she has a huge smile plastered on her face. She should be wearing that smile all the time, "Dig in!" she says, taking one of the two plates on the tray for herself and I grab the other one. She has smothered mine in syrup, just the way I like it which is odd because she didn't know that. She has yogurt on hers instead of syrup and I cringe watching her take a bite.

"Yogurt? Where did you even get that?" I ask.

"You had it in your fridge." She says taking another bite.

"Seeley Booth doesn't eat yogurt." I say, knowing very well that its Parker's from the last time he visited.

"It tastes really good." She says stabbing a pancake square and offering it to me.

I cringe and look at her, but she persists. I take the square into my mouth and am surprised at how good it actually tastes. She is a constant surprise, "Mmm. It is good." I say, then cutting off a square of my own and holding it up, "But not as good as this." I say, putting the large piece in my mouth. Some syrup drips from my lip and I wipe it off with my arm. She laughs at me and we eat making benign conversation about yogurt and its health benefits; of which I am hesitant to believe.

When we are done eating, she begins gathering the dishes and I take them away from her and pile them on the tray. She looks at me and doesn't move. I know that she believes that she is not good at reading people, but she is good at reading me which is why when I stand and pick up the tray off of the bed, she simply smiles and slides down onto the mattress and watches me leave the room.

I walk confidently out of my room and into the kitchen. I feel pain, but I can walk on my own for now. Cleaning our mess is only a small task in comparison to what has yet to come and I will need her to guide me through it regardless of how ashamed, vulnerable or weak that may make me feel. I need her to help me for Parker, for her, but most of all, I need her to help me get back to me.


	10. Chapter 10

**Someone on another site asked me about the feet issue with Booth saying that there is no indication on the show about whether or not he still has trouble with them... this is my response:**

**It hasn't been shown in the show that his feet hurt in the morning, however; in an interview with DB, he says something about them doing some scenes in season four where we the audience will see how difficult it is for him to get going in the morning where his feet are concerned. Also, from personal experience, I used to dance competitively a lot when I was younger and have had numerous broken toe/ sprained ankles many of which I had during competitions and had to dance on. It's been about ten years since then and I still wake up on winter morings with pain in my feet from then and my injuries are nowhere near what Booth's would have been, so I just assume that he would be in severe pain; specifically in the winter months. **

**Thank you all for reading my story. This is definitely different than my other ones so I really appreciate it when you do respond. **

**Have a great night/day and enjoy the chapter!**

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_I walk confidently out of my room and into the kitchen. I feel pain, but I can walk on my own for now. Cleaning our mess is only a small task in comparison to what has yet to come and I will need her to guide me through it regardless of how ashamed, vulnerable or weak that may make me feel. I need her to help me for Parker, for her, but most of all, I need her to help me get back to me. _

I never understood my mother. She used to enjoy washing dishes. She would get this intensely serene look on her face and stare out the window while letting the piping hot water cascade through her hands erasing the mess of left over crumbs and sauce wash into the sink and circle down the drain. There were many times in my childhood that I remember standing next to her and calling for her attention while she was washing the dishes and she just wouldn't hear me. Her eyes would glaze over and she would just look out into the yard and I would wonder how the water soothed her so.

I place the last of the dishes in the drying wrack and wipe my hands dry on an old rag that sits on top of the bottom cabinet drawer just as Bones walks into the kitchen and leans against the counter. I smile at her and she bites her bottom lip in response, "Do you mind if we swing by the Jeffersonian for a minute today?" she asks.

I turn to her and lean on the counter as well, "Sure, what's up?" I ask.

"It seems as though in my hurry to leave I left an important document unsigned and Cam needs it by two for a meeting that she has."

I clear my throat and toss the towel next to the sink, "No problem."

She steps closer to me and places her hand on the back of my shoulder. Although this kind of contact is normally seen as platonic; my breathing involuntarily becomes slightly stronger. I don't know if she can feel the difference but she doesn't back away from me, "I'm sorry. You don't have to come inside if you don't want to, but I really would prefer not leaving you alone if I don't have to."

I half smile at her, "I can take care of myself." I say, knowing that this is usually what she says to me.

She smiles as well and laughs, "I know you can. Making sure you're okay is… well, it's more for me than it is for you at this point."

I push off of the counter and laugh loudly shaking my head, "You're so selfish, Temperance!" I say sarcastically.

She laughs and shakes her head, "I just can't help it I guess." She retorts. She takes a shower and gets changed into some of the clothes that Angela brought over the night before and I sit on the couch waiting until she is done so that I can change as well.

We drive in silence. I am in the passenger seat again and it doesn't bother me, although I make a crack about it to her to which she just smiles and shrugs it off. When we arrive at the lab, she scurries off to Cam's office while I wait for her near the platform. I see Hodgins at his station with Angela lingering around him. He looks up at me and I can see the worry in his eyes, but he quickly looks away knowing that the last thing I need is to be coddled. Angela peaks her head over into his station and says something to him and nods to where I am standing. I know that they are wondering if they should approach me or not, but I make it easy on them and go to them.

They look up at me, somewhat hesitant about how to start conversation. Hodgins opens his mouth to say something but I cut him off by sticking my hand out to him. He aggressively takes it with a questioning glance, "What's this for?" he asks.

I half smile at him, "I just want to thank you for what you did yesterday." I say, then turning to Angela, "Both of you. I'm sorry I didn't say it sooner, but thank you."

Hodgins smiles at me and lets go of my hand and places it on his hip, "Not a problem, dude. As much as you resist it, you are one of us man."

"And I'm lucky for it." I respond. Angela smiles and I can detect tears coming to her eyes. I fervently pull her into a hug and kiss the top of her head. I was an asshole yesterday when she dropped by and I know it, so I rub her back and let her know how grateful I am to have them both.

She steps away from me when she hears Brennan walking up to us, "What is going on here?" she asks somewhat taken aback by the scene.

Hodgins interjects, "Booth was trying to kill Angela with bullets of love."

We all laugh and I shake my head and pat him on the back, "Leave it to Hodgins to joke the awkward out of any situation."

Hodgins laughs and slaps me on the shoulder, "I'll be here all week." He says dramatically.

Brennan turns to me and releases a breath, "Ready to go?" she asks.

I turn to look at Hodgins and Angela in the eye and look back at her, "Yeah. Let's go." I say, and I lead her out of the building and back to the SUV.

I take the keys from her on the way out and she just smirks at me. Little by little, everything is falling back into the way it should be. My head is in the game and I stretch my shoulders before hopping into the driver's seat of my SUV and turn on the ignition. Things are starting to get back in control and I'm driving this time.


	11. Chapter 11

**Hey guys! Thanks for all of the reviews. This chapter is a little longer than the others because I needed to move the story a little quicker. I have a few other projects I have already started working on and I still have more ideas I have yet to put into writing. My muse works overtime like Brennan. No joke. **

**Hope you all like this chapter. Let me know**

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_I take the keys from her on the way out and she just smirks at me. Little by little, everything is falling back into the way it should be. My head is in the game and I stretch my shoulders before hopping into the driver's seat of my SUV and turn on the ignition. Things are starting to get back in control and I'm driving this time._

I stop at the diner wanting nothing more than a piece of perfect apple pie. She doesn't even ask why we stop; she just goes along with it as though it were a planned destination for the day. Perhaps it's because we spend a lot of time here but it could also be that she wants to let me have the freedom of making choices again.

We step inside the diner and take our usual table by the window and I am curious as to why it is always available when we come in. We sit and our waitress brings over coffee unbeckoned and I order pie while Bones orders a side of fries since she won't be able to steal any from me.

We don't need to talk anymore. It's become apparent that she and I no longer need words to communicate which is why she notices that I become distracted by the sound of the waitress refilling change into the cash register.

"Booth." She says, a hint of irritation in her voice. I look over at her and know that there is no good explanation for my behavior, "We have to go to a meeting."

I look at her and then shovel a fork full of pie into my mouth, "I…" I start to say but she cuts me off.

"You were the one would asked me not to pretend like you didn't relapse and now all you are doing is pretending that you didn't. I can try to help you the best I can, but that isn't going to be enough. You need to talk about it to people who understand what you are going through."

"I can talk to you about it." I retort. I am becoming unnecessarily angry and I take a few deep breaths to calm myself down.

"No." she says flatly, "You can't."

I lean back in my chair and look at her and she is arguing with me through her gaze, "Why not?"

She looks out the window and opens her mouth before coming up with a valid response, "Because, I don't know what you are going through and the fact that I can only empathize with you in this particular situation is going to make you resent me. I can't tell you that everything will be okay because I don't know if it will or even how to help you get started. You need to go talk to people who have been where you are."

I exhale loudly and it is evident that her intellect has once again prevailed over my argument, "You're right." I say, leaning against the table and avoiding her eye contact.

She reaches her hand across the table and places it on my forearm and I look up at her, "I wish I could know what you are going through and how to make it better. I would give anything to make it all stop, but since that is impossible, this is the best I can do. Just be here for you."

"I'm sorry that I'm being such an asshole." I say, taking her hand in mine, "I really do appreciate what you're doing."

She smiles at me and tilts her head to the side, "You were always kind of an asshole. It's part of your charm." She laughs and I join her.

We finish off our food and I pay the bill, insisting that it is a small gift of gratitude. Back in the car, I am driving again and we make our way downtown to my church where there is a Gambler's Anonymous meeting being held in twenty minutes. She hops out of the SUV and runs across the street to buy us both some coffee and I spend time facing down the heavy mahogany doors that lead to a place I haven't been in quite some time.

I don't remember when it was exactly that I had stopped attending mass on Sundays as well as meetings, but I know that is was a gradual decline in attendance of the past year or two. I know that the moment I set foot in those doors everyone is going to know. They all know me by name and I used to have a few friends that attended those meetings as well and they will know that something happened over the past few days that spurred this sudden attendance. They will be happy to see me and happy to meet Temperance, but they will be disappointed that I let myself fall back down. They may also be slightly jealous when they first see me, assuming that I did actually gamble but that is something that they would never openly admit.

She comes trailing back with two large cups in hand, nearly giving me a heart attack when she steps off of the curb without looking both ways; or even one way for that matter. A car comes screeching to a hault in front of her and she yells at the driver as though it was his fault for not watching the road. She continues across the road and opens the door to the SUV carefully and scoffs, "Did you see that guy? He wasn't watching the road at all." She exclaims.

I roll my eyes at her and take a cup out of her hand, "You should be more careful when crossing the road Bones. Drivers in this city are… reckless." I say. She laughs and takes a sip out of her coffee cup and leans back in her seat and looks at the doors of the church.

"Are you ready to do this?" she asks, looking back at me.

I look between her and the church and sigh, "I don't know." I say, "Are… are you sure you want to come with me?" I ask.

"I think the better question is, do you want me to be there?"

I look her in the eyes and lean back in my seat, "You're going to… hear some things; things I haven't told you before. I never really told you the whole story about what happened after the war. You should just be prepared for the truth. I'll understand if your opinion of me changes."

She turns abruptly in her seat and leans toward me, "My opinion of you is not going to change just because you are currently in a position of vulnerability, Booth."

"I am not the man you think I am, Temperance." I say to her in a half whisper.

"No." she says shaking her head vehemently, "You are exactly the man I think you are, Booth. You are the most reliable, consistent and caring man I have ever met in my life and you know very well that that is not an exaggeration. The person who did those things ten years ago is not the person that you are today."

I close my eyes and sink down into my seat, "You don't know that." I say. There is a moment of silence and then I suddenly feel a hard blow to my shoulder, "Ow!" I exclaim, "Did you just punch me?" I say putting my coffee in the cup holder.

She is now sitting with her legs curled under her and her arms crossed defiantly over her chest, "Yes." She says confidently.

My eyes widen and I sit up straighter in my seat and coddle my wounded arm, "Why did you punch me?"

"You made me very angry, Booth." She says, still not budging, "You deserved it."

My eyes widen even more and she is staring at me. The funny thing is that normally when she is angry she looks angry. Currently is looking at me deadpan. There isn't any emotion in her eyes and she has turned into the completely rational and scientific Temperance Brennan who I have yet to see since getting back from Atlantic City.

In retaliation, I quickly poke her in the stomach hard, "You made me angry too!" I say.

Her jaw drops and she looks up at me and punches my shoulder again, "Don't you poke me!" she says, raising her voice.

"If you keep punching me," I say poking her again in the stomach, "I'm going to keep poking you!" I say, poking her another time. She tries to dodge my finger but there is limited mobility in the car.

She puts her coffee in the cup holder on her side and punches me again harder this time and I wince in preparation for the blow, "You know, you punch really hard for a girl!" I say poking her again.

She growls, "Well, you're phalanges feel like they're made out of steel." She says punching me again and I start to laugh. She stops and looks at me curiously and I can't get over the childishness of the conversation that we were just having. After a minute of laughing, it finally dawns on her what is so funny about the situation and she begins to laugh as well.

We laugh so hard that we are starting to loose our breath and the people who are going into the meeting are looking into the SUV curiously to see what is so funny and their expressions only make us fall into another stream of fitful laughter as they enter the building.

Finally, after about ten minutes of laughter, we manage to pull ourselves together despite our aching abdominal muscles and my aching arm. We get out of the car and meet on the sidewalk, coffee in hand. The scariest part about this should be that once we cross the threshold all of that gaiety and laughter is left outside and the impending nervousness of being here is taking over, but it's not. The scariest part about this is that despite how much she tells me that her opinion of me won't change, the possibility still exists that it will, and I don't know if I can live with that but she deserves to know the truth.


	12. Chapter 12

**PHEW! This chapter was hard to write! haha. I hope this is good.**

**Let me know what you all think please!**

**And thank you to everyone who has been reviewing. I really appreciate all of your responses to this story.**

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_The scariest part about this is that despite how much she tells me that her opinion of me won't change, the possibility still exists that it will, and I don't know if I can live with that but she deserves to know the truth._

Walking down the stairs to the basement of the church where the meeting is held, my heart rate picks up. It feels similar to a raid. Somehow she senses my nervousness, probably because I'm walking slower than normal and she takes my hand as a sign of encouragement. She astonishes me and I wouldn't be surprised if she astonishes herself as well by the simple fact that without words she knows exactly the right way to make me feel better.

I squeeze her hand and open the two way swing door and enter the basement where a large group of men and women are gathered. Everyone is carrying a cup of coffee that they picked up at a local convenience store or Starbucks on the way. When I enter the room, some turn to look at me and a few faces light up in recognition of who I am. Bones is trailing behind me but is firmly holding on to my hand as she is most likely uncomfortable in this situation as well.

A slightly balding man walks up to me and extends his hand to me. His name is Joe and we've known each other for a while but I haven't seen him in over a year. Seeing that my right hand is currently occupied he switches hands and I shake his hand fervently, pretending that I am okay.

"Seeley, how are you doing?" He asks in his Northern Jersey twang. I always teased him because his entire persona is straight out of the Sopranos.

"I'm doing okay." I say to him and he releases my hand and slaps me on the shoulder.

"I haven't seen you around in a while. What's been going on?" He asks.

I look back at Temperance and see her staring back at me, "Nothing much. Been busy… ya know… fighting crime." I shrug. It is evident that I am intentionally being evasive, but if I'm going to talk about what happened it should be after the meeting starts.

Joe nods his head and looks over at Bones, "Hiya honey. The name is Joe." He says extending the appropriate hand out to her.

She warily takes his hand and shakes it, "Temperance." She replies smoothly.

Joe quirks his head to the side and looks at her for a moment, "Oh." He says, recognizing her for the first time, "I love your work." He says, not begging for anymore conversation on the subject. This is supposed to be an anonymous meeting and bringing in a person who is famous is a dumb move that I honestly didn't even think about beforehand.

I turn to her and lower my voice, "I completely forgot that you're famous."

She laughs and squeezes my hand again, "It's okay, Booth."

"You don't have to stay if you don't want to." I tell her gesturing to the door.

She exhales and releases her grip on my hand, "I will do what you want me to do, Booth. If you want me to stay then I will, but don't base your decision on my… hobby."

I look away from her and around the room at all of the meeting attendees. I feel awful because I want her to stay but at the same time I don't want her career to be jeopardized because someone mistakes her for an addict. I feel her hands on the sides of my face turning me back to look at her, "Simple question Booth. Do you want me to stay or wait outside for you?"

I exhale and I can feel my heart rate slowly decreasing, "I want you to stay."

She smiles both with her mouth and her eyes and I can't help but smile back at her. Her hands drop from my face and she takes my hand again and we go sit down together at a group of tables that are situated so that everyone can see each other. After a few minutes of waiting, the leader, Alex calls everyone to attention and makes the opening remarks and passes out chips for achievement.

Tonight there is a speaker; who is someone who tells their story of how they found out that they were an addict, their descent into their addiction and their struggles since they started in the program. A guy named Frank tells his story about addiction and his story makes me feel even worse about myself. These speakers are supposed to make us feel like we aren't alone but his story does nothing but make me feel even more destitute than ever.

By the end of his story I have my head resting in my hands and Temperance is rubbing a hand across my back slowly. Alex thanks the speaker for telling his story and I hear the plastic seat creak as the speaker sits.

"Seeley." Alex says, and I let out a long breath knowing what is coming next. Alex and I never really got along very well. There was always something about him that made me uncomfortable but in the spirit of recovery I always tried to avoid him. Now that he is the leader of the group it's hard to do, "Is there something that you would like to say?"

I look up and I here Bones gasp softly and I assume that it has to do with how crappy I look after spending ten minutes trying to hold back tears due to self deprecation and self pity. I look Alex dead in the eyes and I can feel the sum of twenty five sets of eyes glued to me. Bones removes her hand from my back and places her hands neatly intertwined in her lap.

"Come on Seeley. It's obvious that something is troubling you. Share it with the group. We're here to support you." Alex smiles at me. Any outside observer would think that he was being genuinely supportive, but he and I both know that he is prodding me to make himself feel better.

I look over at Bones and see that she is looking at me with concern in her eyes. I exhale again. I'm not doing this for them, or for Alex or even for myself; I am doing this for her, "I'm Seeley." I say and there is uniform response from everyone in the room that is stereotypical of an Anon meeting, "I'm a gambling addict." I clear my throat and look at my hands because that is the only way I can feel safe right now, "I… I was an Army Ranger and I did a lot of things that I'm not proud of. It's funny because despite the fact that I had an exemplary record in the army, I felt anything but when I came home. It's hard to adjust back into a normal life after being a soldier. Gambling became a kind of escape for me and some of my friends.

My buddy Frankie and I came back and met up in Las Vegas together. I lost everything I had on the second night in town. From there it was a downward spiral." I turn to look at her and see that there is no judgment in her eyes; only understanding and compassion, "This is the part I never told you." I tell her, then turning away and continuing on, "Me and Frankie, we got jobs as bartenders in the casino and on our breaks we would go and gamble whatever tip money we had made that night, same as after work. It was a never ending process of making and loosing money. I spent all day everyday in the casinos. The only time I would leave was to grab a few hours sleep, a shower and change of clothes. I blew everything I had; all of my salary from the army even a savings account that my parents set up for me when I was born. Eventually we lost everything including some of our personal effects that we pawned for money; so, we went to a loan shark and got ten thousand dollars and split it down the middle for rent in this crap studio apartment we shared and food. We were only going to use tip money for gambling."

She grabs my hand, sensing my voice becoming thick with emotion. I take a long breath and clear my throat again, hoping that the tears don't actually come, "Frankie ended up stealing my half of the money one night and gambled it away along with his half. The loan shark found me and decided to teach me a lesson." I laugh slightly at the memory of two guys beating the crap out of me in the alley way behind the Tropicana, "I think that I didn't fight back because I figured after the things I did in the war that was part of my punishment; God punishing me for disobeying his commandments. Long story short I had to have my parents bail the both of us out of our debt and when I finally got back on my feet I paid them back every dime that they gave me. I got help and I've been okay ever since… until two days ago."

It is dead silent in the room and it's setting my nerves on end. I close my eyes and rub them. I look over at Alex and he is looking at me and conveying pity. It's not what I expected to see from him but it still annoys me, "The other day my ex and the mother of my kid informed me that our son is going on a trip with her to Europe this summer for two and a half months. Apparently she accumulated a lot of sick and vacation days and she is taking off of work and decided that it would be a good experience with him. She has the entire trip planned out and didn't bother to tell me until it was absolutely impossible for me to say no and there is nothing that I can do about it. If I make them stay I will look like a selfish father for… hindering him from seeing the world but if I let him go I won't be able to see my son until September."

I shake my head and squeeze her hand that has been tucked inside of mine, "And then my mother; who is still upset about me having had a child out of wedlock is harping on me about settling down because I'm getting old, but she doesn't understand what it's like. She and my father were high school sweethearts and got married right after they graduated. She keeps naming all of my ex's that she has heard about over the years as potential wife candidates. If they were right for me, I would have married them the first time around, right? And then, work has been a struggle recently, so I guess I just cracked. Temperance here," I say gesturing to Bones over my shoulder, "She had to come to Atlantic City yesterday morning to help me home."

Alex sat up in his chair and I look over at him, "Are you saying that you gambled, because you know that means that you have to start over on your remission count."

I look at Alex and I hear Bones shift forward in her chair. I turn to look at her and she is glaring at Alex who now appears very uncomfortable, "Excuse me." Bones says, and I place my other hand on hers to let her know that it is okay, "No, Booth." She whispers to me and then turns her attention back to Alex, "Can't you see that he is in enough pain without you assuming the worst of him. He just told you a story about the awful things that he has had to endure and you're worried about his count? What kind of uncompassionate man are you?" She asks in an accusatory manner.

Alex shrinks in his seat and mumbles an apology. I want to laugh a little, but instead I wink at her and she knows that I appreciate what she just did, "I didn't gamble." I say to the entire group, looking them all in the eye one by one, "I sat outside of Caesar's all night listening to the sounds of slot machines and rolling dice. I've been tortured before but that was the first time I ever indulged in self flagellation." I roll my eyes at myself, "I think it all comes down to the fact that I am punishing myself for what happened during the war. Everyone always says that I was doing my job and I did it well but… I don't know. Someone once told me, a fellow soldier said that he was a really good soldier but a pretty bad human being. That's what I am; a good soldier and… a terrible human being."

I suddenly realize that my eyes are wet and I don't know when the crying started. Everyone in the meeting is stunned into silence by my words. Temperance moves her chair closer to mine and wraps her arm around my waist. When I turn to look at her she envelops me in a hug. If it were anyone else I would think that it was a half attempt at comfort when they don't have the appropriate words, but when I wrap my arms around her shoulders she whispers in my ear, "You are a good person, Booth."

"Okay, so," I hear Alex say, his plastic chair squeaking as he stands, "Anyone else have anything to share?" There is silence in the room still, Temperance and I let go of each other and sit back in our chairs, "Okay then. Thanks for coming and our next meeting is next week, same time same place. If you all could help clean up that would be helpful." He says taking his chair and folding it back up and stacking it against the wall.

Bones and I both stand and grab our chairs and stack them against the wall and I quickly make my way to the stairs with her trailing behind me. We exit the building and both dispose of our coffee cups in the garbage can on the curb and I hand her the keys of the SUV. We ride back to my apartment in silence.

We have to go back to work tomorrow and we still have a case open. Although I'm not looking forward to going back to work, it's something that I need to do to get back into my normal routine. I can't let this stupid addiction ruin my life. I climb into the passenger seat of the SUV and she gets into the drivers seat and starts the ignition. She turns to me before starting to drive and places her hand on my forearm, "Did that help at all?" she asks.

I look at her and I'm not sure what to say, "I don't know." I say shaking my head, "I feel worse if anything."

She rubs my forearm and then turns back to the wheel, "You'll feel better soon, Booth. I… I have faith in you."

I turn to her and smile and she looks at me out of the corner of her eye and smiles as well. I feel better.


	13. Chapter 13

**Here it is!!**

**LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!!!!!**

* * *

We get back to my apartment and I collapse on the couch. She immediately goes straight to the kitchen and starts taking out supplies to make us dinner. Upon hearing this, I enter the kitchen and stop her, "Bones, you don't have to make me anything to eat. We can just… order pizza or thai or something." I say, stopping her hands from moving.

She looks up at me and puts a pot down on the counter, "I want to cook for you." She says softly.

"Why?" I ask. I can tell something is up with the way she is acting but she is attempting to mask it.

She lets out a breath and leans against the counter, "I feel that perhaps by making you dinner you might be less likely to think that my opinion of you has changed." She said, avoiding my eye contact.

I clear my throat and occupy myself by twirling the instant coffee jar on the counter, "Has it?" I ask.

"No." she says firmly, "Granted, I wish you had told me sooner, but I don't judge you based on your past, just like you have never judged me based on mine."

"Then what is it?" I ask.

She shifts on her feet and crosses her arms, "You lied to me."

"What?" I ask incredulously.

She puts her hands up defensively, "Not intentionally, but you did. I'm not angry or even slightly upset by it because I know why you did it; it's just I'm not sure that you know why you lied." She says, glancing up at me and then away again.

I push the jar of coffee grounds back toward the backsplash and cross my arms, "What did I lie about?" I ask her, obviously confused and little more offended than I probably should be.

"It didn't occur to me until you were telling your story this afternoon at the meeting. Your parents. You could have called your parents while you were in New Jersey to have them come pick you up, but you told me that you called me because you have no one else to call. You could have called them, but you called me." She explained, pacing the kitchen and then stopping to look at me.

I look her in the eyes and then drop my head to look at the floor, "I'm… I'm sorry that I inconvenienced you." I say regretfully and turn to walk out of the kitchen.

I hear her trailing after me and she stops me by grabbing my arm and turning me around, "That isn't what I meant Booth." She pleads with her eyes, "I didn't mind going to going to get you. In fact, I'm glad that you did call me. I just… It's not logical which leads me to believe that you had another reason."

I put my hand on her shoulder and she looks up at me, tears shining in her eyes, "What are you trying to ask, Bones?" I ask.

"What I'm trying to ask is…" She said taking a deep breath, "Why did you really call me, Booth?"

I look at her for a moment, reading her facial expression much like I do in the interrogation room. Something is happening and it might all be my imagination or wishful thinking but I take the plunge hoping that she won't break my heart, "It's because I trust you with my life. It's because when you're around I always feel better because I'm consciously a better man. I knew if you were there I would be able to avoid the temptation because I don't ever want to disappoint you."

She takes a large breath and steps closer to me, "And?" she says with a hint of hopefulness in her eyes.

I am startled by her question and try to think of what she wants from me at this moment, "And what?" I ask. The only thing that I can think of is the one thing that I can't tell her. I watch her fists curl and take a step back, "I am making you angry again, right?" I ask cautiously.

She drags a restless hand through her hair and looks away from me, "I'm… no. I'm just… I've been irrational. I don't know what came over me. I mean, you would never…" she says trailing off and then turning back into the kitchen.

I stand stunned for a moment and contemplate the sentence that she had yet to finish. I follow her into the kitchen and she is preparing to make mac and cheese, "I wouldn't what?" I ask her.

She shakes her head and looks up at me with a fake smile, "It's nothing, Booth. Don't worry about it."

"Clearly something is bothering you." I say to her. I walk up next to her and put my hand on her lower back and she involuntarily shivers. She closes her eyes and now I know and she knows it. I remove my hand from her back and turn her to face my with my hands on her shoulders. Her opinion has changed about me but not in the way that I had expected. My heart rate is picking up and I feel the non existent electricity running through my body to hers, "Say it."

"I can't." she whispers, eyes still closed.

"Please, Temperance. I need to hear you say it. I need to hear it out loud so that I know it's true." I beg her.

She slowly opens her eyes and looks at me. She takes a steady breath and opens her mouth and I hear the most wonderful thing I have ever heard, "I'm in love with you, you moron." She says. Her eyes are watering and she punches me in the shoulder as I start to laugh.

"I'm in love with you too." I say tugging her into my body and wrapping my arms around her shoulders. She wraps her arms around my waist and squeezes me tighly.

"I already told you how I felt." She says shaking her head against my chest.

"What? When?" I ask. I try to think back but come up empty.

She laughs and I kiss the top of her head, "On the phone when you were in A.C."

I pull away from her and my jaw drops, "I… I thought you meant as… as a friend." I laugh.

She rolls her eyes at me and slaps me on the shoulder, "No, I'm afraid you were very wrong." She laughed.

I laugh and pull her into my arms, "I have never been so glad to be so wrong." I say leaning into her and placing my lips on hers. I was right in thinking that her lips were softer in reality than in my dreams. She is perfect and we move together as though we've been kissing each other our entire lives.

Things will always be hard and they will never get easier. Time with my son will always be strained and my parents will probably never stop trying to meddle in my life and make my decisions for me. The cases will never get easier to deal with because when life is lost, society inevitably changes with it. The only thing that we can do is keep moving on, moving forward and moving up. Little by little we have to try and make the world we live in a better place despite the idea that it is a never ending task. But the one thing that I know I will always be able to count on; the one person who has the ability to be consistently surprising and surprisingly consistent is my Bones. And she's worth a lot more than twenty dollars.

THE END!!!!!!

R&R!


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